


i want back the necklace

by dabihawkss



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, mpreg crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 19:59:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19933669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabihawkss/pseuds/dabihawkss
Summary: and all of a sudden, crowley hates his body.





	i want back the necklace

Crowley looks at his body in the mirror and hates it. He's used to having a lithe form, lean and sinewy, no matter if he's presenting as male -or- female -- extra weight isn't an issue for him, but he's never preferred it on himself, and he stands with his shirt rolled up under his elbows, trying not to scowl down at his stomach.

He's sixteen weeks, now -- he'd found out that this entire little problem existed in the early summer, when the city was hot and there were practically no people on the streets; not a surprise, he muses, that he got pregnant during the worst heat wave England had seen in the past seventy years. It's late autumn, now; early November, and he's glad that he'll be obviously pregnant when it's cold out. Not that he'll be going outside much, but a pregnant belly is easier to hide under a gigantic hoodie and overcoat compared to the tight black garb he usually wears.

There's hardly a bump; he doesn't know why he's complaining, really -- it's only obvious when he puts his hands on the small of his back and pushes forward, and the bump starts at the bottom of his pelvis, rounds out just below his navel. There's no stretch marks yet, but he knows they're coming (Aziraphale has already stocked up on countless amounts of lotion); and as he coasts his hand over his stomach, there's the tiniest shot of movement underneath of his hand. Crowley snorts.

Feeling the baby -- it's a boy; he knows, already, doesn't know how, but he can just -tell- -- move had been -odd- at first. It felt rather like a fish swimming in a bag, but inside of his belly; he's been feeling it steadily for two weeks now, and he's adjusted some, even if the trade off for feeling his son move is the sharp pain that runs up the sides of his stomach, a result of his ligaments thickening to support whatever little half breed is growing inside of him.

Aziraphale hates when he calls him names like that; but Aziraphale sees past the discomfort of this, sees the good in it, and it softens what heart Crowley has left every time he sees his lover between his legs, hands splayed on his belly, talking to the baby even though he can hardly hear them yet. 

(Crowley -thinks- he can't hear, anyway; sometimes there's a strong flutter after he calls him a little terror, but he's not far along enough to be entirely -sure- yet.)

He sighs, drops his shirt and turns around, and of -course- Aziraphale is there watching him. How stereotypical of him. He still wonders how Aziraphale is usually so painfully -obvious,- but still manages to sneak up on him every single time that Crowley does -not- want to be snuck up on. Crowley doesn't say anything, not at first -- they both scan each other with their eyes, and then Crowley's embarrassed, because the angel's gaze -lingers- and all of a sudden he's terribly self conscious.

"... -what?-" Aziraphale shakes his head, says nothing; Crowley goes to shove past him, but the blonde extends an arm, settles it firmly on his shoulder to stop him, scans the demon with his eyes again. 

"You look good, Crowley."

Crowley feels heat start to shoot up his neck, makes an awkward sound and does manage to get past him this time. His face is burning as he saunters down the hall, and Aziraphale watches him, wonders when he'll finally get the nerve to tell Crowley that his odd wobbly walk away is actually starting to look rather funny.

**Author's Note:**

> idk like i said it just be happening


End file.
